


It Only Takes a Moment

by AlwaysJohn



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: A bit more than friendship but not quite 'there' yet, A longed for gift, Early Days, M/M, a tiny bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 14:07:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16019489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlwaysJohn/pseuds/AlwaysJohn
Summary: Sherlock receives a longed for gift from John.





	It Only Takes a Moment

**Author's Note:**

> It only takes a moment  
> For your eyes to meet and then  
> Your heart knows in a moment  
> You will never be alone again  
>  -Jerry Herman, composer  
>  Hello, Dolly, 1969 and Wall E, 2009

It was much later than he’d intended when he stepped out of the cab at 221B. Bone-weary and bleary-eyed from a difficult but successful case, and desperately missing his blogger, he glanced up at the darkened flat windows. In his chest, Sherlock’s heart shuddered with disappointment. Perhaps John had been delayed as well, he reasoned as he strode with purpose to the door and slipped his key into the lock. 

Guided by the glow from the lamp on the table just outside Mrs. Hudson’s door, also dark at this late hour, Sherlock ascended the stairs two at a time. As always avoiding the creaky one, he stopped at the bend in the stairs when a familiar aroma tickled his sensitive olfactory sensory neurons. 

He grinned so wide his cheeks hurt.

 

Author’s note here: Picture “High-functioning sociopath...with your number.” From The Sign of Three interview with Mary’s friend David. Yes, THAT smile!

 

At the open door, his eyes were immediately drawn to the sofa where John lay sleeping. Removing his Belstaff, his suit jacket and toeing out of his shoes, Sherlock padded across the short distance to kneel on the floor beside him, gazing on him in wonder. What had he ever done to deserve this man in his life?

As though in his slumber he had sensed his presence, John reached out to him, wound his arms around his neck and drew Sherlock against his chest, tucking his curly head beneath his chin. John inhaled deeply, then sighed as only he could. Sherlock, frozen in an awkward position, a hand on each of John’s shoulders, dared not move for fear he would ruin the moment. 

“All right, John?” he whispered just in case the doctor was still asleep and unaware of his unusual display of physical proximity.

“Mmm, am now. Solve it?” 

John’s palm found its home at the nape of his neck, resting with an unfamiliar familiarity, his thumb feathering the curls there. 

“Of course,” he said barely keeping his voice from wobbling. They didn’t do this. Why is John doing this? Does he know he’s doing this? No, he has never sleep walked, has he? And it wasn’t likely he would carry on a conversation while asleep. Only in his nightmares did he speak, but that was very different from this..this, what was THIS?” 

Sherlock was confused. Hopeful, but confused and very much out of his depth. John often rested a hand on his arm or shoulder, patted his curls in passing or shushed him with a finger across his lips, but...

“Cheeky bastard.” John’s deep-throated chuckle, brought Sherlock back to the moment, scrabbling to pick up the threads of their odd, disjointed conversation.

He cleared his throat. “How was your day?” Trying to keep himself at arm’s length, literally and figuratively speaking, was difficult in his current position.

“Had better,” John said, failing to stifle his yawn. 

“John?”

“Hm?”

“Is that..the thing-”

”..with the peas, yeah.”

“Oh.”

“Sherlock,” John began, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Are you not hungry?” he asked, playfully pushing him away. Surprised, Sherlock fell back on his bum and knocked his elbow against the table while trying to keep his balance.

When John’s fingers cupped his chin and drew him forward again, Sherlock stopped breathing for several long moments.

“You are so beautiful,” John whispered, “and I have wanted to do this for so long.”

“Starving..” he whispered, rushing to keep up his end of the conversation before everything in his field of vision went dark and was reduced to just John.

Pressing a gentle, too chaste kiss to his lips was enough to elicit a small moan from his throat. When John pulled back, and Sherlock was able to meet his eyes, his heart aching in that moment with the certain knowledge he would never be alone again.


End file.
